Godly challenges and story fragments
by Mr. Cloak
Summary: A repository of challenges and story fragments that may or may not be a mixture of entertaining, disturbing, creepy, horrifying, hilarious, and action-packed. Now with extra... Something. Seriously, what is this?


**Ch ?- The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe**

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!" Came the cry from the snake-faced bastard, Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, aka You-Know-Who, aka that snake-faced bastard.

The green beam made a slight whooshing sound as it shot at him, and, with a soundless impact -which,meeting magical, briefly silenced everything for kilometers around-, the curse hit Harry Potter, also known as the The-Boy-Who-Lived, aka the Chosen One, aka Fate's Spittoon.

His body crumpled like a used tissue, and his soul vanished from this plane of existence- Ron had told him Hermione was dead, and he was eagerly awaiting to be reunited with her.

* * *

"Can we have sir's name?"

Harry blinked, looking up at the ceiling, wondering why he wasn't dead. Things got even more confusing when he realized he was laying on, instead of the ground of the Forbidden Forest, he was lying on some corrugated, silvery metal, and above him, tiny balls of multicolored light vied to be nearest to small, angular obelisks that jutted down from the ceiling like stalactites.

"If sir would sit up, we may be able to more easily seat sir."

Then there was that voice. It was understandable, but it sounded like someone speaking out from dozens of mouths all at the same time.

"Sir? Are you cognizant?"

Harry looked at the source of the voice, and saw... A cactus. A blue cactus. Wearing a bow tie. And floating, several feet off the ground, with spines, eyes, and mouths alternating where the spines would normally be on a cactus.

"Ah. Good- you are cognizant! Sir's name?"

"Harry Potter."

"Full name please sir. I have two-hundred thirty five thousand seven hundred and nine million 'Harry Potter's in my list."

"Harry James Potter?"

A clipboard floated off several spines, and posed in front of the creature. A tendril whipped out of a mouth, and traced along it's clip board. "Magical Human?"

"Yes."

"Died due to simplified soul-extraction spell?"

"Um... Yes?"

"Good! You are currently expected, and there is a seat reserved at the bar. Please follow me."

Harry scrambled to his feet as the floating foliage began to drift through the crowded entranceway. He had no idea where he was, although the ritzy feel of the place- and mention of a bar- reminded him of a restaurant.

Then they passed by a window, and his jaw nearly fell off.

Outside the window, there was maybe a kilometer of broken, moon-like ground, and beyond that- stars. Old, red ones, swollen with the detritus of billions upon billions of years, glowing dully in the layers of nebulae that surrounded them.

But that was not impressive. What was impressive was just beyond the stars. It was a ring, bigger than galaxies (this was fairly obvious because several galaxies were being visibly redshifted by it's gravity- and spun around by it), and within the ring, a tiny pinprick of light that seared across his mind like legitimancy and Voldemort's presence used to.

"Sir, we know the view is spectacular, but please- your patron is waiting."

"Patron?" Now Harry was confused. Who would he know- wherever this place was?

"Yessir. A Creator had set this reservation some twenty five millennia ago, and was quite insistent about this."

"What?" Harry was getting even more confused.

"You will see sir. Please come with me."

Harry followed the plant down several other corridors, and eventually they came across a fairly large bar, where drinks of impossible and intoxicating natures were being consumed by a variety of beings. There was a man with two heads and three arms, talking with a normal woman, and then this British man carrying a towel and wearing a bathrobe over pajamas was looking very angry for some reason. There were a group of dogs that looked like someone had tried to turn dogs into werewolves, and got them stuck in a half-human shape- all wearing expensive looking suits-, a being that looked like it was descended from some sort of bird, but covered in metal plates, talking to what could only be described as a robot- it had a massive flashlight for a head, and the bartender- physically hurt to look at, like some sort of funhouse mirror horror from the dank nightmares of H.P. Lovecraft.

The cactus floated over to a figure sitting at the corner, with his(?) face pointed out the window, nursing a glass of... Blue firewhisky with what looked like an angry lemon in it. "Your guest sir."

Harry sat down on the stool, which immediately conformed to the most relaxing shape of stool he had ever encountered. This is important because the stool was the only thing that kept him from freaking out when his 'patron' turned to face him.

The being was dressed in a suit, with a black shirt, a pitch-black tie (that somehow had stars floating in it), and wearing black gloves. But it's face was a smooth mirror, perfectly reflective, and all Harry saw was his own face and the background scenery.

Then it took a drink, and Harry had to suppress the headache that such a simple action induced.

"Hello Harry. I am... Sorry it took so long for this, but I had prior commitments." He, as the voice sounded somewhat male- all be it a man sitting at the bottom of a well with a sore throat. "Would you like a drink? I find it helps when dealing with some forms of news."

Harry nodded, and couldn't keep himself from asking the main thought that was on his mind. "Sir? Where are we?"

"Ah. I thought you might have guessed it. We, are currently sitting at the most profitable event in catering ever conceived- the Restaurant at the End of the Universe!" He held up a finger. "And before you ask, yes, the universe is ending out there, but you won't live to see it."

Harry bristled, and reached for his wand- then remembered that he had been disarmed during the fight with Riddle. "Are you threatening me?"

"No. You're dead, genius. Have been for hundreds of billions of years. This-" he gestured around at the bar, "- and that-" he pointed at the scale-defying ring, "- are the last result of a civilization that your mind cannot even conceive of. An adventure in catering, and a doorway in and out of a universe so that many different cultures and timelines could see it- well, it just seemed like a better place to have this discussion than my office. Especially since I don't get paid for this." He downed the glass of flaming whisky, and flicked his fingers on a small just-depressed pad in the tabletop.

A tendril approached, carrying a bottle of the blue stuff, and placed it delicately on the table.

"Thanks Nergal."

The tentacle grew a hand, gave a thumbs up, and retreated. Harry had to deal with another massive headache at that movement.

"So.. If I'm dead, is this-"

"The afterlife? No." He refilled his glass. "I don't work for the original creator of your universe. I just... Snagged you from a time stream when I had an opening."

"What?"

The being sighed. "Ok, so- every universe has a creator, right? An entity that, for the lack of a better term, 'wills' the universe into existence from the firmament. Some creators, like myself, see these universes, and think 'well, shit. That creator could have done so much more with a few tweaks' or 'what happens if I link two timelines from two (or more) different universes', and then their will and effort allow the potential universe to branch off a 'parallel' universe, where things become slightly different. Are you following me so far?"

"... No."

"Ok. Let's put it like this. Your universe had fiction, right? Did you know about fanfiction? Where independent authors play around in a published writer's sandbox?"

"I think so..."

"Okay! I am a fanfiction writer, and I intend to alter the timeline of your universe (so of) slightly, thereby changing the ending, and timeline of your story."

"I'm in a story?"

"..." The faceless being face-palmed. "From my point of view, yes." He waved a hand, and seven 'Harry Potter' books flashed into existence. "These books, from where I am from, dictate your reality and the particularities thereof. Everything that makes you, well, you, is in these seven books- or eight movies. So... Let me show you the ending of your original universe." He handed Harry the large, orange book titled 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows', and, with one hand, flipped open to the epilogue.

Harry read for a minute before his lower left eyelid started twitching. "I named a child Albus Severus? What the fuck was I on?"

"My guess? Love potions."

Harry's head snapped around so fast that his vertebrae made clicking noises. "What."

"In a fair percentage of the more... Well-thought-out universes that branch off your original one, the Weasly's use love-potions to push you and Hermione into falling for Ron and Ginny respectively. That and the universes where Dumbledore is exposed as a manipulating criminal old man are some of my favorites. They fit with the original narrative quite well- especially since neither you nor Hermione have ever asked if Dumbledore was doing what was in your best interests!" He downed the full whisky glass in one swallow. "Then there the issues with personality interaction and the affection coefficient-"

"What?"

"Your personality, and intelligence is, as of the books, stunted. By upbringing, and probably by spells too. Some say you are/have been working for your whole life at 0.02% or less of your own power, others say it's been cut down by half. It doesn't help that your scar was containing a mass-murderer's soul (or part of one), and many, many creators are of the opinion that the goblins could have helped with that if you had just asked."

"Goblins?"

"Yup. Hell, you could have gone to a mundane hospital and had your scar excised- and the horicrux would have died immediately, running out of magic to support itself. But that's not important. What's important, is what is going to happen now."

Harry sighed. "Are you going to send me back?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. But not to your timeline. I am currently splitting off a parallel one that you will be sent in to, as the fourth year starts, and you will be able to make some positive changes. But before I do that, I need..." A stack of folders fell onto the counter, and the being took one. "Ah. Here we are. Soul-bond registration paperwork for one Harry James Potter, genome type h̀u̦͔͈͍̱̗͉m͔̠͔͎̙̫̬͟a͏̘̬͍̬n͞, with allowances for (UNSPECIFIED)-class soul bonds."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, fleshy, that you can have soul-bonds with almost anyone, and as many as you want-need. It's one of those things that people- creators, like myself, play around with, but most people put stipulations on it." He took a drink. "The Writer of your seed universe, Rowling, thought that you should be the soul-mate of one Ginvera Weasly... To the amusement and/or disappointment of many other writers. This fact has been disputed- even by the creator herself."

"And the love potions you mentioned earlier?"

The lemon game him the finger.

"A theory of how things actually happened. We can't say what really happened- all we know is from the perspective that the author has given us from your original universe. According to her though, in some news posts, you and Hermione were supposed to get together, but changed it because of... Something." The deity looked sheepish. "I kinda saw red and stopped reading there. I am fairly against the original source for your universe, but... Well, some things could only be explained if people like Dumbledore and his Order of the Roast Chicken were actively trying to put you down, or force you to become a martyr."

Harry sagged into his chair. "This... Puts things into a very different light."

The silver-faced God nodded, and patted his arm. "Look at it this way- at least you didn't get turned into a girl this iteration. If you don't have the mind for being gender-flipped it is disorienting."

"Wait, what?"

"At least in that one you're the same species." Snorted the god. "Occasionally I run across a particularly disturbing universe where Dumbledore does this thing with a goat and you are... I'm not actually going to look into that one. Anyway, I want to offer you a deal."

Harry was immediately on guard- more so, in any case. Although it was a bit hard when the the headache-enducing cactus escorted a yellowish bovine creature to the next table where it promptly began to wax poetic about the joys of being eaten. "What do you mean, deal?"

"I destroy the universe you just came from- afterlife, reality, everything about it including you, revert it back to an earlier timeline, and use the energy to effect another timeline with you in it to try and make that timeline better."

The wizard blinked. That was... Weird. "So... No life after death?"

"Sorry kid- you're dead, and your specific universe is only being sustained by my will at this point. Now, I was going to just harvest it, and refine it like I usually do, but I'm giving you this option because I have seen how Harry Potter's life can alter the lives of sentients billions of years after the fact." He swirled the glass, causing the lemon to begin tumbling around uncontrollably. "You, however, will have to agree to it." Even with a face as smooth and featureless as a mirror, the disgust was evident. "I never force these deals upon anyone."

"Can't you send me back?" Harry asked, still trying to get his head around all... This. "Send me back in time just a little?"

"This isn't my world that I am interfering." The god snapped. "I have visitor privileges at best- not admin ones! Destroying an entire sequence of time like this usually goes unnoticed, but that only because the multiverse is so freaking huge!" Then the entity leaned back, and sighed. "Look, it's either this, or you go back to your promised afterlife- but due to the temporal differential, it would be several billion years after the point where your love's and families souls would have dissolved into the ether."

The ex-wizard shot to his feet, knocking over a chair- which was quickly caught by a tentacle of Nergle. "That's the next great adventure?!" Harry yelled- or tried to, as suddenly he sounded like he was muffled by ten feet of pillows.

"For your segment of the multiverse? Yes. Don't yell- this is a classy establishment."

Harry was lifted into the air, forced into a seated position, and then placed back in the chair that the helpful Nergle placed under him.

"Souls are slowly being unmade until only energy is left- which fuels your magic there. But that isn't the point. The point is, if you agree, you will make uncountable you's have a better future. What do you say?"

Harry glared at the window, getting his temper under control. Then he turned back to the impassive silver face of the god, and stuck out his hand. "I agree."

The god shook it. "Great! Now, you may feel a slight pinch as your soul is duplicated into the energy shards, and I will divide this point using a bit of it into the multiverse to lure other writer-creators. They will brief you on the specifics of the short message you can send back- ten words, no more, will be carried to the person of your choosing, or a single minor, magical effect."

Harry felt something begin to stretch.

"And before you ask- yes, you will get a chance to choose the message, but the creator will be the final factor. Think carefully." A disturbing smile full of sharp teeth appeared as the silver surface shrank back, shadows indicating shapes in the mirrored face. "And have some fun! Kiss some girls, or whoever!"

Everything about Harry Potter and his universe, shattered into thousands of fragments as the space where the wizard occupied turned into very fast-moving meat slurry.

The god leaned back in his seat, and collected the spark that was let over. "So... Who wants to accept the challenge?"

Nergle carefully began cleaning the area of wizard-bits as various other entities blinked in shock while their minds realized that they were now covered in what could only be described as human slurry. It was viscous.

"Yes, how about you, covered in entrails? Do you want to try?"

* * *

 **End Ch ?**

* * *

Anyone who wants to accept my challenge, please do so! In fact, please copy this page, then write in how your avatar would take the fragment, choose what message to send back, and then the story that emerges!

I wanted this story idea to be a bit more free form, and realized that you could have a lot of fun if Harry could send a message back to his younger self.

Remember, this challenge contains the following caveats:

\- Harry and the writer have to agree on the message

\- The message can't be more then ten words long

\- The message will be implanted into the subconscious of the target- who can be anyone in the HP universe

\- Pairings can be anything (because this version if Harry is dead), but I like seeing at least Hermione and maybe one other... Luna's nice. HINT HINT.

Now... Go nuts! Oh, and happy belated Valentines Day! Kiss your loved ones!


End file.
